Do It Again
by Archristol
Summary: Jeanne has been avoiding Bayonetta. Bayonetta fixes it. Even if only for a night... / Oneshot. Femslash. Bayonetta&Jeanne. Rated M to be safe.


**Do It Again** by Archristol

Disclaimer: I don't own Bayonetta nor Jeanne. They belong to each other.

* * *

><p>A small fog started to gather in the middle of a rather large modern, yet surprisingly also quite traditional, dim lit bathroom. The woman that currently inhabited it graciously approached the source of the subtle mist - a luxurious tub embedded under its fossil tiled floor. She slowly immersed her naked body within the bath's warm water and included her head in for a few seconds after she deemed it to be fine. Once her head emerged from the calming liquid, she had already sensed the other person she shared her house with had come home - early.<p>

[-]

"Jeanne, are you in the bath?" she heard the woman ask beyond the bathroom walls, possibly from the hallway which lead to the bedroom.

High heels clicked sharply on wooden floor as they approached their destination. Not a moment later, the bathroom's double doors swung open with its handles still gripped by its handler. A young gray cat followed and purred while it encircled the woman's sturdy exposed legs. Bayonetta wore a charcoal pencil skirt and a long sleeved white cotton blend shirt with a front ruffle detail. It was an ensemble Jeanne normally exhibited on her body when she didn't wear pants. As always, Bayonetta displayed it in a more provocative way.

"Seriously?" Bayonetta stated with authority, though slightly hunched over in question for clarification. Jeanne had been skipping their nightly rituals of hot sex and had been going straight to sleep.

"Not as serious as you arriving sooner than expected. Now that's impressive," Jeanne remained relaxed and contented with her current position; the back of her head stayed facing Bayonetta.

"_Haha_," Bayonetta made sure her sarcasm echoed on champagne beige walls. She finally stood upright and crossed her close-fitted sleeved arms together.

"I certainly hope you weren't considering on sleeping right afterward," her tone commanded. Jeanne only closed her eyes, tilted her head backwards, and made no reply.

[-]

The next time Jeanne opened her eyes, a nude Bayonetta submerged into the water across of her and came forth right in front of her face. Bayonetta gathered her long wet ebony hair from behind and encompassed it on a shoulder.

"I said, I certainly hope you weren't considering on sleeping right afterward," she repeated with a softer and sultry voice. Jeanne noticed her lips were naturally redder than usual. She tried but couldn't smell alcohol from the breath where those words became uttered.

Suddenly, she felt somewhat lightheaded, until a hand slipped on her left thigh, "I know you've been avoiding me so I would come home early."

Jeanne stared at her semi-pleading blue gray eyes, "That, plus I'm extremely exhausted from getting random attacks from angels, negotiating with pea-brained nitwits, and arguing incessantly for the past few weeks with you."

Bayonetta sighed. "The first can't be helped, the second is because you decided to become a triple threat workaholic, and the third," she settled her elbows on Jeanne's lap and gazed at her like a dreamer, "Is because I desperately want your fucking attention."

Jeanne chuckled the kind of raspy chuckle that secretly made Bayonetta swoon a little inside.

"I miss last year, Jeanne. We used to go club hopping almost every night, fuck like wild animals during mating season, and, most of all, you actually had a life! Don't you miss it a tiny bit?"

Jeanne felt Bayonetta's genuine concern and nearly frowned, "Cereza, it was all fun and games then – fresh from the "left eye" "right eye" clusterfuck. You moved in to my house, we lived life to the fullest together, then recognized our true feelings shortly afterwards. I gained the connections I needed to have to be where I wanted to be. Presently, I have far more important priorities to administer to. Partying isn't something mature grown women should worry about every night anyway."

Bayonetta renewed her posture and loosely placed her hands on Jeanne's exposed damp shoulders, "Yes, but you barely even go anywhere fun with me or anyone anymore. Okay, so we go out for lunch or dinner, do fittings for your massive collections, and attend business-related events occasionally. Other than that? You design clothes, talk politics, and have a college teaching gig? And to top things off, you go out of your way to save random people's lives? Jeanne, you realize you have to slow down. And I don't mean using more of your witch time."

Jeanne looked down momentarily and played with the water, "I know. The upcoming fashion week hasn't been merciful on me," though as soon as she lost eye contact, she reverted it, "But I will."

They both traded a faint smile. Bayonetta knew she meant it. Jeanne always committed. How long would it take however? Possibly a lot longer than what it took to get her drunk. Speaking of the devil...

"And what of your partying ways, hmm? Let's not put the previous weeks all on my affairs." Jeanne's hands moved to hold Bayonetta's, still resting on her shoulders. Her palms cupped the back of her hands, and laced her fingers over hers.

"You're well aware I will get over it in time," Jeanne rolled her eyes half-heartedly at this, "Then I get over over getting over it and party all over again." Jeanne raised an eyebrow while Bayonetta attempted to rationalize. Besides being the highest earning supermodel in the past year, she was the most renowned forthcoming celebrity socialite.

Jeanne blinked, "I actually don't mind you partying whenever you please if it didn't require my signature on a bail bond. Just have some restraint and don't end up on TMZ." Bayonetta giggled with a barely audible sound. She also had reputation for delivering in verbal and actual punch stats. It was impossible for her to go clubbing anywhere without some type of pervert or hater. Her persona made it too easy to gain a considerable amount of those shitheads. Haters gonna hate.

"What about E! News?" she knew Jeanne didn't watch much TV but her assistant did and she knew _everything_. "E!'s fine, as long as it doesn't come out of Luka's mouth or writing."

Bayonetta cocked her head to the side, Jeanne found it cute. "Why are you so bothered by him?" she bit her lower lip in and moved even closer that Jeanne was to the point of tasting the sweetness of her lips.

"He looks filthy and the way he speaks whatever crap he comes up with is irritating. Why you continue to associate yourself with him is a phenomenon I can never comprehend," Jeanne spat.

"You shouldn't mind anything he does if it annoys you." It was true, except Jeanne's attention wasn't solely on Luka, it never was – it was on _Luka and Bayonetta_. She had gotten used to her girlfriend's constant flirtatious teasing behavior centuries ago. Yet there was just something different when it came to Luka, and it aggravated the bejesus out of her.

"A simple hot bath won't do," Bayonetta surmised, "You really need to relax," she advanced forward and was on the verge of kissing Jeanne breathlessly – till she retracted their intertwined fingers and rose from the water.

As soon as Bayonetta resurfaced out of the tub unexpectedly, Jeanne felt a bit cold. Her eyebrows lifted as she examined her.

"Care for a massage?" Bayonetta sat on the ledge behind Jeanne and cradled her upper body in between her legs. Jeanne took the cue and readjusted her position so that her head came to rest on her lover's chest, "If I won't be rendered brain dead..."

"Oh _baby-boo_, if I ever rendered you brain dead it would be when I fuck your brains out. We'll do that shit right!" she emphasized the last sentence so well, she almost sounded like Pauly D asking for fried pickles. Bayonetta becoming so Americanized in such a short while didn't come as a surprise to Jeanne at all.

Bayonetta gently set her hands on either side of Jeanne's head. Jeanne took a glimpse of her, "I sincerely wish you will stick to the basics we already use and not come up with some more unusual sobriquets for me."

"Of course not dear," she grinned, "We'll keep _baby-boo_ though."

She picked one shampoo from an array of expensive salon shampoos which fit the occasion. "First, let's wash your hair."

[-]

Bayonetta stretched her arms and fingers after a thorough lathering and cleaning of Jeanne's short hair. "Now, I'm not entirely sure how good the next procedure will feel," she laid her fingers on Jeanne's temples and turned her head around to look at her, "However, I think you can handle it."

She began by squeezing the trapezius muscles close to her neck, then worked outward to her shoulders and increased the pressure after each pass. With her fingers extended, she went back to her neck and made tiny circles with her thumbs and kept up with the small routine a couple more times. Proceeding unto Jeanne's head, she spread her fingers wide, pointed up, and made a shampooing like motion directly on her scalp. Simultaneously, the heel of her hands retained its hugging over her skull while her fingers worked. At last, she focused on using her fingers and stroked the corners of her brain. She rubbed her temples, then the top of her head, the forehead, and then the sides again. She was doing good, very good - such that a weak moan escaped from Jeanne's typically quiet mouth. The steps she took felt natural and repeated it for a little under a minute before stopping. The result was what looked like a 500-years-asleep Jeanne.

Once Jeanne couldn't feel the kneading anymore, she lazily arched back. "Which of the VS angels taught you how to do that?" she admired her massage therapist through half-lidded eyes, "You performed unbelievably well."

Bayonetta looked amused. "Honestly?" she questioned.

"I promise," Jeanne gave her a bright smile, one Bayonetta thought she will never forget.

"I don't know Jeanne. I suppose it might have come from me being your maidservant so long ago."

Their pasts still weren't fully realized and, from what they can conjure, it won't be for an extended amount of time. They stared at each other with a glint of sorrow in their eyes. Finding bitter truths about themselves might prove painful and it scared them. Jeanne's memories were messed with in the course of waking Bayonetta up. Something must have happened ahead of that time which made Jeanne vulnerable for a memory alteration. Likewise, Bayonetta's memories haven't completely recovered. Despite all this, one thing was unquestionable - the feelings they felt were positively mutual.

"I love you Cereza," Jeanne whispered when she noticed Bayonetta had been thinking deeply. She reached up and caressed her smooth right cheek, "Do it again, please?" There was no response, Bayonetta's eyes remained distant.

A second later, Bayonetta's eyelids started to close in sync with her bowing her head down. Jeanne anticipated the notion and captured her sapid cherry lips in a tight peck. The distinct feeling of Bayonetta's lips on hers gave her a quick rush of déjà vu but couldn't remember anything. Hungry for more, their mouths fell agape and their faces angled diagonally to meet for better access in the heated passionate kiss. Bayonetta groaned into her lover's mouth as she battled for dominance, then hastily returned into the water and wrapped her arms around her shoulders. All the while, she hummed in pleasure.

[-]

Jeanne definitely won't be sleeping early tonight, nor will she be leaving very early tomorrow.

* * *

><p>AN: This is my very first fanfiction! I've never written anything that's not for school, so go easy on me. :) I drew an illustration for this piece and got inspired to write. Maybe I'll write more, who knows? Review and we'll see. ;p Check out the artwork for this piece on my deviantART. I'm under the same username.


End file.
